Of Sleep and Such
by yassandra
Summary: Sometimes Pythagoras needs a break - and what his friends don't know can't hurt them...


A/N So I'm supposed to be working on other things and then this happened. It's probably the closest I can come to light and fluffy so here you go.

On a side note I have received a few messages asking about an update on Child of Fortune - for those of you who are reading it, it _is_ coming I promise! The chapter is just over half way through at the moment but neither real life nor my muse have been kind. Unfortunately I have some pretty nasty stuff going on in real life and it's been taking my concentration away from my writing. Writing anything longer than this one-shot is a bit of a struggle but I will get there - I have every intention of updating CoF as soon as I can.

That being said, I'm also trying to write two fics for the Small Fandom Big Bang, the first draft of them is due at the end of January and each has to be at least ten thousand words long, so I'm likely to be a bit busy for the next couple of months :-)

Anyway, on to this fic. It's been written for for round 7 of hurt/comfort bingo and fills the "Drugged" prompt on my bingo card.

I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

"You did what?" Hercules sounded incredulous.

"I drugged him," Pythagoras repeated remarkably calmly, "and now I need your help to get him across the room and onto the bed."

He looked clinically at their housemate, who appeared to have fallen asleep at the table, his head pillowed on his folded arms, and used his thumb to peel back an eyelid, before letting the eyelid fall back and nodding to himself in a satisfied manner.

"But why?" Hercules spluttered.

"Because in the past few weeks he has not stopped for long enough to rest properly," Pythagoras explained. "A body cannot maintain that pace indefinitely and I would rather not have him collapse at the wrong moment." He looked slyly at Hercules. "Besides which I thought _we_ could use a break too."

Hercules frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Pythagoras sighed and sat down at the table, next to his sleeping friend.

"I love Jason," he admitted. "Really I do… but sometimes I have to admit that I find the constant self-sacrificing heroism a little wearing… He has been worse than ever since Minos died."

"And since Ariadne told him there was no future for them," Hercules added, dropping down on the other side of Jason with a sigh.

"Indeed," Pythagoras agreed. "And the more impossible the task he is set, the more he throws himself into it… and since I would not dream of allowing him to go into these things unsupported and unaided…"

"We get dragged right along with him," Hercules finished.

"Exactly," Pythagoras replied. He looked at Hercules with a half-smile. "I wouldn't stop trying to help him for the world," he admitted, "but sometimes I do need a break."

Hercules' eyes grew distant; thoughtful.

"He's changed hasn't he?" he observed. "He's not the boy we met when he first came here."

"We've all changed Hercules," Pythagoras answered softly. "Even you… But, yes, you are right. He _has_ changed. He does not smile as much as he used to; doesn't laugh in the same way. He says he's an optimist but sometimes I wonder…"

Hercules made an unhappy face. Somehow, somewhere along the way (despite the fact that he was the last one to come into their little household), everything had come to revolve around Jason; everything seemed to circle back to him.

"You think he's unhappy?" he asked.

Pythagoras sighed.

"I think Jason is troubled," he replied. "Something – and I do not know what that something is – weighs on him these days. I suspect it relates to whatever the Oracle has told him about his destiny. He always seems distant and unhappy when he returns from visiting her… and Ariadne has not exactly helped. Whether she has meant to or not, she has used his affections against him to make him help her; to attempt seemingly impossible tasks for her… and now she has broken his heart." He sighed again. "It does not seem fair," he went on. "After everything that has happened… everything we have been through… everything we have done for this city… haven't we all earned the right to be happy? I know that the fates can be cruel and yet surely we have done enough? Surely _he_ has done enough? You know as well as I do that there is no reason that Jason and Ariadne cannot be together. If she were to know that he is of royal blood…"

"You know why we can't tell her," Hercules growled. "The Oracle said that Jason can _never know_ the truth. We'd lose him."

"I know," Pythagoras said. "But it isn't fair."

"No, it isn't," Hercules sighed. "It isn't fair that he can't be with Ariadne… it isn't fair that I can't be with Medusa… and it isn't fair that you… well I'm not sure what isn't fair for you but I'm sure there's something."

"Never mind about me," Pythagoras said hastily – perhaps too hastily.

Hercules shot him a look that changed from startled to speculative and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Like that, is it?" he asked. "What's her name then? Or is it a him?"

"I don't know what you mean," Pythagoras retorted primly. "There's no-one."

"Suit yourself," Hercules said. "But if you ever need any advice on what to do or what goes where…"

"I know who _not_ to come to," Pythagoras replied sharply.

Hercules chuckled.

Pythagoras checked on their friend once more (more as a way of changing the subject than because it was strictly necessary), resting his hand in front of Jason's face and feeling the hot breath coming steadily against the back of his hand with some satisfaction.

"Come on," he said. "He will sleep for the rest of the night and he will not thank us if he wakes up with a stiff back from sleeping at the table. Let's get him into bed."

Hercules grunted, pushed himself up from the table and lifted their friend with relative ease, draping Jason's arm around his shoulders and grasping the young man firmly around the waist.

Pythagoras hurried to move the bench they had been sitting on out of the way, before coming around to support their drugged friend from the other side. It was almost depressing how familiar this felt to them both; an indication of how often they'd had to carry Jason between them when he was hurt.

"So, what did you give him?" Hercules asked as they made their way across to Jason's corner alcove.

"A sedative solution mixed into his wine," Pythagoras answered.

"You drugged perfectly good wine?" Hercules muttered, half to himself. "Sacrilege."

Pythagoras rolled his eyes but didn't comment.

"What was in this solution?" the older man went on.

"A little of this and a little of that," Pythagoras replied evasively. "It is a mixture of my own devising."

"And you decided to test it out on _him_?" Hercules asked.

"Of course not," Pythagoras stated. "I have used it before. That is how I know he will sleep through the night… and quite probably for most of tomorrow morning too."

"You do know that he's going to kill you for drugging him when he wakes up," Hercules pointed out matter-of-factly, dropping Jason unceremoniously onto the bed.

Pythagoras tutted and rolled his eyes, moving to roll his friend onto his back so that he wouldn't suffocate in his own pillow and removing his dusty shoes.

"I hardly think so," he said crisply, arranging Jason's shoes neatly next to the bed and pulling a blanket up over his friend. "He's unlikely to realise I sedated him… unless you tell him that is."

"You know I wouldn't do that," Hercules proclaimed, his tone a little hurt. "But I still think he's likely to work it out when he wakes up and finds himself in bed with no memory of how he got there."

Pythagoras looked at him steadily.

"He never has before," he stated.

"Never has before? How many times have you drugged him?" Hercules demanded incredulously.

"A few," Pythagoras admitted. "But only when I have deemed it to be necessary."

"For him or for us?" Hercules smirked.

Pythagoras managed to look both guilty and a little mischievous at the same time.

"Both?" he said. "The first time was after the Pankration… but I have done it several times since."

He gave the blanket one last twitch.

"There," he said. "When he wakes up, Jason will simply think that he was more tired or more drunk than he thought. I will tell him that he said goodnight and stumbled off to bed already half asleep."

"And that will work?" Hercules asked sceptically.

"It always has in the past," Pythagoras answered brightly.

"Gods, he's even more gullible than I thought," Hercules snorted.

He glanced speculatively at their deeply sleeping housemate and then back to his mathematically inclined friend.

"Since we're not likely to be called on to attempt anything heroic tonight – and by heroic I mean monumentally stupid – how about we head off to the tavern?" he suggested. "Somewhere in this city there's a flagon of wine with my name on it and a dice game calling to me."

Pythagoras hesitated.

"What is it?" Hercules asked, picking up on his friend's unease.

"It's nothing," Pythagoras assured him. "It is simply that an idea came to me earlier and I had hoped to have the time to set it down on parchment."

Hercules shook his head ruefully.

"I will never understand how you can prefer _triangles_ to an evening of good wine and good company in the tavern," he remarked, "but if that's what you want to do, do it. I, for one, will be seeking my pleasures elsewhere though."

Pythagoras smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"Try not to get too drunk," he advised. "Hauling one unconscious friend into bed is quite enough for one evening without having to do it a second time."

"Even if you _were_ the one responsible for him being unconscious in the first place," Hercules replied.

He started to head towards the door to the house but stopped halfway across the room as a thought occurred to him, and turned back to face his old friend.

"You've never drugged me the way you drugged Jason tonight have you?" he asked slowly. "I mean you wouldn't… would you? Pythagoras?"

Pythagoras smiled in response. It was an open and apparently guileless smile and yet somehow slightly evil too.

Hercules shuddered. He suddenly remembered that the mathematician was a genius and could be truly devious when he wanted to be.

"Pythagoras?" he asked again. "You wouldn't…"

Pythagoras' smile widened as he turned away. What Hercules didn't know couldn't hurt him.


End file.
